Nightlock
by mspolapotter
Summary: Only five tributes left. The end is nearing. Is it really worth it?


Hello everyone!

I'm not exactly a newbie here on FFN, but I am on HG turf, so I think I better introduce myself. I am mspolapotter, a frequenter on Harry Potter Fanfiction, specializing in Harry-Hermione and Draco-Hermione Romance and this is my first Hunger Games fanfic.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All this belongs to Ms Suzanne Collins.

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><p><strong> <em>NIGHTLOCK<em>**

_a Hunger Games fanfic by mspolapotter_

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><p><em>Pitter, patter. Pitter, patter<em>.

No that sounds too jolly.

Let me just say that the rain wasn't at all shy. It was pouring heavily, causing almost zero visibility. My temporary shelter is holding up quite nicely, but I know I'll have to go out some time to get some food.

Oh good. Maybe I'll get lucky and be mauled by a mutt.

Days passed and the rain fell relentlessly. Until one day I woke up and the sun was shining brightly in the sky. I walked out, feeling the wet earth squelch under my feet, and breathed in.

It's been so long. I have survived by pure stealth alone. I know that some time will come I will have to kill someone (or the other way around). I know that time is coming soon.

I've wanted to do something to kill myself with my dignity intact. I don't want to just walk out in the open and scream or start a fire. That would hurt my pride. But as much as I want to die, I remember my family back home. My brothers. My little sister. My mom and my dad. I cannot leave them. The thought of it just hurts. But then again, I would have to die in the end anyway. Those two from twelve…I won't say it to anyone but myself, but as soon as I saw them, I knew that either one of them is gonna snatch the victory. And I would rather die than have someone else's blood on my hands. Unlike those Careers.

I feel like someone in a coma. Watching over her loved ones. Waiting for them to let me go. Except that I cannot watch over my loved ones. All I need is their go signal, and I can rest in peace. For some reason, the half of me that's waiting for their signal is dreading to receive in.

A trumpet sounds over the arena and soon I overhear Ceasar Flickerman's voice everywhere.

At the Cornucopia. What could it be? The curiosity kills me, pushing away the paranoia building up inside of me. I make up my mind and start putting down my shelter and gathering my things and start trekking back to the Cornucopia.

The following day, I open my eyes, and to (half of) my relief, I'm still alive. I crouch low and see that a table had been set up. There were several bags on the table with the corresponding district number on it.

"_It's now or never,_" my alter ego whispered, sending shivers down my spine. I bolt out and grab my pack without meeting any of the others. I run to the opposite direction of my shelter for around fifteen minutes before finally needing to rest. I flop down on the ground and open the pack.

Inside was a thin black pad, edged with silver. This was one of those Capitol things that they used for communication. A digital green button flashed on the screen. Gingerly, I touched my finger to it and it sprang to life.

I saw the face of my siblings. Tears sprang in my eyes.

"We're so proud of you!" My eldest brother said. "We almost couldn't see you on the screen because of how amazingly sneaky you are!"

I listened to their voices, not really absorbing what they were saying. I could do this over and over again.

Soon their faces faded and were replaced by those of my parents. My mom was already crying.

"We do not have much time, sweetheart," my dad said, mom clutching on him for support. "We just want to let you know that we're so proud to be parents of the most celebrated tribute of our district. We couldn't ask for more."

I wiped my eyes. My mom cried even harder.

"Now, dear, we've been witnessing your…er…dilemma for a while now."

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

_Yes. Yes, finally!_

"And we just wanted to say that…we love you," dad said, his voice hitching. "We love you so, so, _so_ much. And…and…"

"And that you're free to go," my mom said, speaking for the first time.

At that moment I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.

"We love you dear," my mom said. "Thank you."

The screen went blank.

I set down the pad.

And I smiled. I sighed. I laughed. For the first time in days, I _laughed._ I was finally _free._

I decided to make an amendment to myself. I was going to die either of natural causes, being attacked by a tribute or an animal attack. Should I not take it anymore, I should make my suicide look like a murder.

Days later, I thought about how the end is so near. The other tribute from eleven had died. The end was coming. I better make an exit soon.

As I was hunting for food, I heard a rustle through the trees. Swiftly, I climbed up and waited.

It was the tributes from twelve. The girl—Katniss, was it?—was scolding the boy for being too noisy and asked him to look for edible plants instead. They traded signals and went separate ways. I decided to follow the boy tribute.

I swung discreetly from tree to tree. He stopped by a bush of dark-colored berries.

_Nightlock._

He picked a handful of the berries and put them in a plastic bag and tied to his backpack. I sighed with relief. He's not gonna die.

Then my brain hatched an idea.

I climbed down from the trees and snatched the plastic bag of nightlock. I was careful to control my emotions so I'd look innocent, like I didn't know these were poisonous.

I took the handful of berries and smelled them for effect.

"And quite frankly, the odds, have been in my favor," I say to myself, hoping that they would think that I was referring to the odds of finding food rather than the odds to killing myself.

_Bottoms up!_

As soon as the juice trickled down my throat, I could feel my knees buckling. I sank to the ground and felt my eyes roll backward as one by one my senses left; sight, smell, touch, taste.

Left only with a few seconds of my hearing, I heard Katniss looking for Peeta.

_They're gonna make it. I know they will._

And I fell into a deep, everlasting sleep.

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><p>My sister is the one to thank for this fic. After reading the bit about Foxface dying, she hypothesized that maybe she was suicidal since she'd been so good all throughout.<p>

So, thanks for reading! Please review! :D


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